Not Slytherin
by Foxwithgrayeyes
Summary: The sorting occurs as Harry reaches Hogwarts and the unthinkable happens- Harry is placed in Slytherin. Read and review! : Please. you'll get cookies.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns these lovely people and places. I just get to twist her words and make everything turn out different. Bahaha!

"Some wizarding families are better than others, you wouldn't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." Draco said as he extended a long fingered, pale skinned hand towards Harry.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself," Harry replied. Ron had never felt so happy. He truly believed that Harry Potter wanted to be his friend. Ron had never had a best friend before. He'd never had much of anything really. As he followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall along with all the other eleven year old students he felt that maybe Hogwarts would be even better than he'd expected. Harry too was feeling excited. Here he could have friends. Here he could be safe. As the sorting process began Ron whispered to Harry about the different houses.

"Slytherin!" the hat called out the second it touched Draco's blond slicked back hair. The boy smirked and walked to his new table.

"No surprise there," Ron whispered.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"His whole family has been a part of Slytherin house for as long as anyone can remember," Ron whispered. "Slytherins tend to dally in the Dark Arts,"

Harry nodded, looking at the crowd sitting at the Slytherin table, thinking they didn't look like the nicest people. In fact, they looked a lot more like the kind of people you'd meet in dark alleyways.

As Harry's name was called a small murmur went throughout the assembled students. The Sorting Hat was placed on Harry's head.

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin," Harry thought as hard as he could. "Anywhere but Slytherin!"

The Hat seemed to chuckle. "Not Slytherin, eh?" he whispered into Harry Potter's ear. "But Slytherin could help you on your way to greatness."

"Not Slytherin!" Harry repeated.

"No? I think I know best, young Mr. Potter…. SLYTHERIN!"

Harry's face went pale.

Ron's heart sank. Maybe he wouldn't get a best friend after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Once I had a dream that I owned Harry Potter and that was pretty darn cool but then I woke up and it was all fake. Alas.

Ron was sorted into Gryfindor. He was surprised on one hand, on the other hand not. After all, all his siblings had been Gryfindors. Had he been placed anywhere else he would have felt defective, like he didn't belong. Well, more so like that. He sat between Fred and George.

"Tough luck" George was saying. "Hoped we'd get Potter in our house,"

"After all," Fred said. "Both his mum and dad were Gryfindors."

Ron shrugged and tried to get excited about the feast which had just appeared in front of him.

Harry was utterly miserable. Slytherin. How could this have happened? Draco Malfoy smirked from across the table at him.

"Now then, Potter," the boy drawled. "I don't suppose you'd want to retract your statement from earlier. About the wrong sort?"

Harry glared. "Fat chance, Malfoy," he said. He knew this probably wasn't the best idea. He was making enemies already, and within his own house. He thought Hogwarts would be better than living with the Dursleys, but Draco was a more capable foe than Dudley and his friends were larger, though just as dumb. It didn't help that Harry's scar was burning, a searing sensation numbing his thoughts.

"Ouch," he murmured raising his fingers to the scar.

"Ooh, Potter's heads hurting," Draco said. "Poor boy. We'd better go fetch his mummy,"

On either side of Draco Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

As the feast ended the first years followed the prefects to their house dormitories. As Ron made his way up the stairs and to the portrait of the fat lady, Harry miserably sulked behind the crowd of Slytherins headed to the dungeons. Harry's heart sank. Never had he pined so for a miserable cupboard under the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

Neither boy spent an enjoyable first night at Hogwarts. Ron shared a dormitory with some pretty nice boys, but he just didn't fit in. Neville Longbottom clearly wanted to be friends and Ron wasn't opposed to him, but he wasn't really someone he felt like he could talk to, or go on adventures with. He decided to try and go to bed early. He laid on his four poster and listened to one of the boys muttering to himself. That was Seamus Finnigan and Ron didn't have the slightest clue what he was trying to do over there. He figured it was easier to just not ask. He rolled over and tried to block out Neville's snores. He was pretty good at coping with sound at night. Fred and George didn't exactly keep quiet at any time, for any reason, unless of course they were trying to sneak past Molly. He shut his eyes and wondered if classes tomorrow would be fun. Would people pick on him? Charlie had been brilliant and talented, Bill had been cool beyond words, Percy was a teacher's pet and excellent student, Fred and George were popular and funny. But what about him? He was quiet and gangly and awkward. Everything he owned was secondhand. He sighed and tried to stop worrying and finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Harry was faring much worse. The dungeons were dank and damp and dark. Too many "da" words for Harry's liking. In fact, he could think of another 4 letter word beginning with those letters that he could apply to this situation. He was expected to sleep in a dormitory with Draco, and two of his friends, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Both boys were huge and had vacant expressions. The only thoughts that passed their thick skulls were the ones Draco planted there. Clearly this was a boy who always got things his way. As everyone else settled in their rooms Harry sat down on a green leather couch in the common room.

A girl with black, chin length hair was the only other student in the common room at the time.  
Maybe she would be his friend?

"Hey, I'm Harry," Harry said nervously.

She looked up. "Pansy Parkinson," she said, shaking her head slightly so her hair swished. "What do you want?"

"Um…nothing. Sorry," Harry said, lamely. That hadn't worked well. He sat and stared at the opposite wall miserably. At least he'd get to learn magic, he told himself. This was still an improvement from home. Eventually Pansy left to go to bed and Harry curled up on the couch, squeezing his green eyes shut tight, trying not to cry.

A/N: I'm trying to make the chapters better- thanks for all the reviews! You people make my day. I am smiling cause of YOU!


	4. Chapter 4

When Harry woke up he actually felt a glimmer of hope. Yes, he hadn't made any friends and yes, his dorm mates were terrifying, but he was at a magical school. He was going to learn magic! He went into his dormitory, sneaking as quietly as he could because the other boys were still asleep and he knew that waking them would not turn out good for him. He grabbed his robes and put them on hastily, then snatched up his things and headed down to the Great Hall. He was determined to make the day as good as possible.

* * *

"No…no. Five more minutes? Please?" Ron rolled over and snuggled into his pillows.

"Ron? We're going to be late. Come on," Neville pleaded.

Ron suddenly realized where he was. Not back at home, being prodded by his mother, but at Hogwarts and he was about to be late for his first day.

"Gah!" he cried and flung the covers off of him. He pulled his robes on over his pajamas, hoping no one would notice.

"Let's go!" Neville said.

"Do we have time for breakfast?" Ron asked.

"…No?" Neville seemed unsure. "We need to get to potions."  
Potions. Joy. As Ron ran down the hall with Neville panting behind him his heart sank. This was not going to be a good day.

* * *

Ron had barely taken his seat in potions, next to Neville on one side and a girl with big hair, Hermy something, on the other, when the door flew open. It slammed against the wall and the sound echoed through the dungeon, as Severus Snape, the infamous potions master, advanced to the front of the room. His cloak billowed and flapped, streaming behind me and he turned sharply to face his students.

"Welcome," he said coldly and not very welcomingly at all. "To potions class."

Ron gulped. Snape was every bit as scary as his brothers had said. Even Charlie hadn't gotten along with the Potions Master. Fred and George had kept him up late at night by telling him horror stories about the "humorless, greasy bat".

Harry wasn't any more comfortable. He was sitting next to a black boy named Blaise, who so far had ignored him but at least hadn't been downright mean. As Snape had burst into the room though Harry felt sick in his stomach. And then Snape had looked at him and his cold gaze flashed with hatred.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Snape said, each world carefully enunciated.  
With just that much Harry could see that what Snape meant was, "Hello. I hate you and am about to make your life miserable." Harry braced himself.


End file.
